Exit Strategy
by Alkeni
Summary: What if Lindsey hadn't had his 'evil hand' moment at the revaluation? Without him leaving, he'd get the promotion, and Lilah...would be cut. Fortunately, Lilah Morgan has an Exit Strategy. One that Involves Angel Investigations, and a lot of stolen files.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Angel the Series. That's all Joss, WB, ME and whoever else.

I would like to thank Starway Man, my Beta.

Exit Strategy

By Alkeni

Chapter 1: Step 1 - Blackmail

**Wolfram and Hart, Los Angeles**

**11:15 am, April 27****th****, 2001**

When you work at Wolfram and Hart for long enough, you reach a point where almost nothing bothers you anymore, and even less will make you lose your composure. Sure, the law was a cut-throat field to work in, at even the best of times. But at Wolfram and Hart, that cliché, like so many others, was a literal warning. You kept your composure, because sometimes keeping that composure was the only thing between winning and losing. And at this firm, losing was, most of the time, a sure-fire recipe for death.

Unfortunately, right now, Lilah Morgan's composure was sitting on a knife-edge, and even that was provisional. A composed lawyer doesn't play with their hair.

_Of course, I'm not exactly composed right now_. Facing her potential death wasn't good for composure.

Lindsey, by contrast, was a cool and collected as anyone could be when facing his own potential death. _Of course, he knows the score as well as I do._ Lilah knew that Lindsey wasn't better than her. Not even a little. But with his lucky break in the Lycor case, coming up with the offshore tin manufacturing company idea...his success was freshest in everyone's minds. _Those stupid idiots aren't thinking about everything – they see a resolved case. That kind of work has __**nothing**__ to do with what Special Projects is designed to handle, and it's going to see him land the job of being vice-president of the division. God damn it!_ Lindsey wasn't the man for that job. He was still fired up about Angel, couldn't see the big picture when it came to the vampire. Never could, never would.

Lilah forced herself to lower her hand from her hair as Nathan Reed started to talk. "These re-evaluations are always something of a mixed blessing," He smiled broadly as he looked around the table. "Sad, as we lose one of our own." He looked at one side of the table. "But also hopeful, as we turn towards the future and promote one of our own." He looked at the other side of the table. Lilah looked to Lindsey. This was it. The moment of truth, as it were. His new hand was twitching, and he seemed...deliberative...like he was deciding something. Lilah knew something of how Lindsey's mind worked.

"Lilah," Nathan looked at her. The false paternalism in his expression, his voice. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the guard – Allen? - place his hand over his weapon. "You've made a lot of great contributions, and I know you've tried your _very_ best..."

Heart racing, a word of protest escaped her lips unbidden. "No!" Lilah grabbed at her purse, the guard drawing closer. Lindsey almost twitched, _almost _reached out to stop her, but then didn't; and Lilah pulled her purse open, just as the guard's gun cleared its holster.

Oddly, Lilah held up her phone as she glared at Reed. "You tell Allen to back off, or all of you can kiss your asses goodbye!"

"Be reasonable, Lilah. There's no reason to make a scene." Nathan said in that same soft, polite voice. "You've made a good effort, but unfortunately you just don't have what it takes make it at Wolfram and Hart. It's better for everyone this way."

"_I _don't have what it takes?" Lilah laughed, her desperation making it seem almost hysterical. "_You_ don't even have what it takes to hide those offshore bank accounts of yours, Nathan! I found them in less three hours of work." Lilah held up the phone. "If I don't make the right call to the right person within the next two hours, that information goes straight to the Senior Partners. And you know how they feel about someone not giving the firm its cut. How much do you have squirreled away in the Caymans? Seven million, eight? Nine? That's a _lot_ to be held accountable for. And the less I say about your accounts in Switzerland, the better for you."

"Nathan, what's she talking about?" Ronald Jayhew looked from Nathan to Lilah then back again.

"Oh, don't give me that, Ronald!" Lilah countered, barking at him. "Not with your investment habits. Or is it just _coincidence_ that you always sell your stock in our clients' companies just before they get hit with major fines, or get taken to court?" Lilah shot a glare at Lindsey, who just had a smirk on his face. "The fact of the matter is, if I don't stop it, in two hours the Senior Partners will have enough information so that each and every one of you will be put into some pretty nasty punishment dimensions, if just that." As she spoke, she pointed to exactly who she meant – Nathan, Charlie, Ronald, Leon. The four members of the review board.

"Lilah, look, there's – there's no reason to be unreasonable. You should know by now that we can't give you the job. It's already been decided that Lindsey will get the promotion, the paperwork has already been submitted." Ronald explained. "And you can't threaten us -"

"Oh, it's not a threat; it's a promise. Namely, if I go down, I'm taking the rest of you with me!" She nodded to Nathan. "Make a call to HR. I want my contract voided immediately. That _includes_ the perpetuity clause. If you don't want me working for the firm, then fine; I'm done with Wolfram & Hart."

"Lilah, you know I can't-"

"Yes, you can." She brandished the phone, raising her voice once more. "You can either do what I say, or you can talk about your indiscretions with the Senior Partners. Those are your choices, Nathan, deal with it. I get freedom from any obligation to the firm, and I walk out of here alive, and all four of you get to keep your lives and your careers. Or else I'll see you _all_ in hell!"

"The firm won't let you get away with this, Lilah." Reed said, trying to sound reasonable. "You know that. You _have_ to know that! Wolfram & Hart won't let this stand."

"Wolfram & Hart? The only thing that matters about Wolfram & Hart is its Senior Partners, and you can't threaten me with them anymore. So like it or not, you'll _have_ to let it stand, Nathan. And even if you can't, I haven't come to this meeting with just half a plan. Now stop stalling, and make the damn call to HR! Or else you get exposed to everyone, right here, right _**now**_!"

Nathan brought out a cell phone and started to dial. Lindsey leaned back in his chair, turning it so he could look at her directly, fingers steepled. "Lilah, like the man said - you have to know that you can't run from the firm and live. As the new deputy head of Special Projects, we both know Nathan is going to order _me_ to come after you..."

"Give it your best shot, Lindsey. And what the hell, the day you do catch me is the day that I _deserve _to be caught and killed. You couldn't beat me at this game under any circumstances!"

Lindsey spread his hands wide. "I got the job instead of you, didn't I?"

"Lucky break." Lilah sneered.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart." Lindsey's smirk was still sitting there on his smug face.

"Give me your gun, Allen." Lilah abruptly turned around and ordered the guard. Allen started to obey – lawyers beat security guards in the firm's food chain, the reflex was automatic – but then stopped, as he suddenly remembered the situation. That moment though, was all Lilah needed. No great pugilist by any stretch of the imagination, Lilah could nonetheless handle herself against this rent-a-cop executioner any day of the week. Her foot impacted directly between his legs and the gun was in her hand, before he was even on the ground. "Ouch. That's going to hurt in the morning."

Nathan lowered his phone. "Really, Lilah-"

"Shut up!" Lilah barked at him. "My contract?"

"I've made the call, and the wheels are in motion. In just a few minutes, the Senior Partners will approve its dissolution on my recommendation. Really, there's no need for this-"

"Oh, of course there is, you impotent ass. I _work_ here! I know all of you. I trust you as far as I could throw Lindsey, and I trust Lindsey even less than that!" Lilah leveled a glare at Nathan.

"Hey!" Lilah ignored Lindsey's indignant protest.

"You've made the call, but since I don't trust you, I want _proof_ before I walk out of this room. Have Files & Records send my original contract up, complete with its void page addition." Nathan didn't do anything. She brandished the gun, pointing it at his head. "**Now!**" Nathan still did nothing.

"If my opinion counts for anything, you should either pull the fucking trigger or stop posturing." Lindsey cut in. "It's not like the world won't be a less slimy one without him."

"Lindsey, watch your words." Nathan reproached.

"Why should I?" Lindsey spread his hands again. "I don't like you any more than Lilah does, I'm just less desperate and homicidal about it. And everyone in this room has witnessed just how easily you gave in to her attempt at blackmail! Still, I have an appointment with a client in half an hour, and since I'm the new vice-president of Special Projects, being punctual seems like a good way to start the job. Give her the voided contract, Nathan. May as well get this over with; she's got you bent over a barrel, and you know it."

Nathan's neck ticked, his head moving left for just a moment. Immediately, Lilah started to dial her phone. "I don't have to wait the full two hours, you know. I can send those files to the Senior Partners right now, if you'd like!"

Nathan's phone flew open faster than was absolutely necessary, the top slapping onto the table with a soft thud. Human Resources was dialed again. "Have Files & Records send the original of Miss Morgan's contract up to the West Conference room on the 9th floor. Now. _With_ proof that it's been declared null and void." He closed his phone. "Five minutes."

"Good." Lilah, who had had her thumb hovering over the 'call' button, pulled it away, lowering the phone. She kept the gun ready, but turned to Leon. "Give me your lighter." Leon didn't protest, taking it out of his jacket and sliding across the conference table. "If the contract really _is_ voided, then it'll burn...and you'll all be witness to it."

The next five minutes passed in tense silence, Lilah still standing, still holding the phone and the gun, everyone else sitting. Well, Allen wasn't sitting – Lilah had made clear he was supposed to _stay_ down. Only Lindsey wasn't nervous – Lilah's composure was completely shot, and it was showing.

The door opened and the interoffice courier entered – one look at the room and he dropped the contract on the table and ran out the door, a squeak of shoes his only noise. Lilah beckoned to Ronald, who pushed it across the table at her. Lilah looked it over with care, checking her signature, and the paper. It was the original, she knew the smell of her own blood anywhere.

"Good. It wouldn't have ended well for you, any of you, if Nathan had tried to pull something funny." Lilah clicked the lighter on, the flames touching the contract's corner. As fire spread over it, the table caught too. Nathan watched, his face growing redder and redder as his peers and underling bore witness to something utterly _unprecedented_ at this branch of the firm.

Lilah tossed the lighter back to Leon, and picked up her phone again. It took only seconds for the fire to turn the paper to ash and burnt char. Hard as it was to believe...her contingency plan had worked. She was _free_.

"Allen, you can get up now and put this out with the fire extinguisher." Lilah backed towards the door. "Once I'm safely out of this building and away, I'll make the call. I have no reason not to, anymore. Your dirty little secrets will be safe from the Senior Partners...for now. But if anyone gets in my way before I get out...well, then, there's no call...and we'll all see each other in hell."

Not waiting for any responses, Lilah left the conference room. There was nothing she needed from her office, hell there was nothing she needed in the entire building. Lingering wouldn't be safe, anyway.

Lindsey looked around at everyone else after Lilah had left. "Well, that went well, didn't it?" The lawyer stood up. "Gentlemen, I have a client to meet with, and unless I'm very much mistaken? You four have some work to do." Out the door he went.

**Angel Investigations, Los Angeles**

**5:31 pm, April 27****th****, 2001**

The lobby of the Hyperion Hotel was fairly normal for a Friday evening. Wesley, Gunn and Cordelia were sitting at the desk, eating takeout Chinese food, Angel was sitting in a chair and reading _War and Peace_ for the fifth time. The three eating were talking about small things – movies, music, whatever. Casual chat, friendly talk. Wesley, as usual, was trying to eat, talk and read a book in some arcane demonic language.

"You know, you _could_ just go back to your office and work on that while you eat, if you find it more interesting." Cordelia said dryly, then popped a piece of orange chicken into her mouth.

Wesley looked up from the book. "Sorry." He set his food down and closed the book, pushing it aside. "There's a few Arhkashzian-script scrolls I'd like to translate before the day is done. This," He gestured to the closed book. "This is a guide to translating the various languages that use that script. I'm only familiar with a few of them, unfortunately."

"Wes, anything actually important in those scrolls, or is you just tryin' to work yourself to death?" Gunn asked.

"Well, I won't know until I've translated them, but most likely no. From what I can gather, these scrolls are a set of ethnographies into various demon clans. And I believe that most of those clans are either extinct, or from rather distant dimensions." He looked at Gunn and Cordelia. "Oh, don't look at me like that. You read comic books," He nodded to Gunn, "and you like to shop for clothes. I happen to like translating obscure demonic languages. It's a good challenge."

"Well, I suppose the world needs all kinds." Angel set his book down.

"Angel, you've read _War and Peace_. More than once. In the original Russian. Don't act like your hobby is any less strange than mine."

"Hey, _War and Peace_ is a timeless-" He cut himself off and laughed a little. "Oh no, we're not having this argument again. You want to start arguing that _Crime and Punishment _is better." He turned and headed to the fridge, grabbing a mug for his blood, still talking as he walked. "I'm not having this conversation again." He repeated.

"_Crime and Punishment_ **is** better." Wesley countered. "The moral conflict-"

"Save the Russian literature talk for when I'm _not_ in the room." Gunn protested, picking up his food again. "It's putting off my appetite."

"Speaking of appetites, I've just lost mine." Cordelia sighed. "I had a nasty thought." She dropped her half-eaten food into the trash.

"Well, don't share it." Gunn countered. It was no use.

"Too late. What is Wolfram and Hart gonna do for organs, now that you and Lindsey took their 'donor bank' out? No more new body parts for their employees?" Gunn rolled his eyes and put his own meal down.

In answer to her question, both Wesley and Angel shook their heads. "For now." Angel noted. "But they'll get to work on creating a new one, sooner or later. And probably try and 'correct' the problems that led to Lindsey and I finding this one. Make sure amputated hands don't go around writing 'kill, kill, kill' and all that."

"The problem with this thing is that it existed at all." Gunn half-muttered. "Just when you thought Wolfram and Hart couldn't go any lower."

"Oh, I'm sure we haven't even _begun_ to plumb the depths of Wolfram and Hart's depravities." Wesley picked up the tome and opened it again. "Of course, there's a bigger issue to address: The question of Lindsey."

"He's not going to quit Wolfram and Hart, obviously." Cordelia scoffed. "He's been there and done that. He had his chance to be a good guy. He traded it for a six figure salary and a full benefits package."

"And a corner office." Angel added.

"Strictly speaking, redemption is never impossible." Wesley countered, looking up from the book. "But yes, I too suspect that Lindsey won't be fundamentally changed by this experience, despite what he and Angel went through together."

Angel shrugged. "I don't know." He took his mug out of the microwave. "There's something about the way he was, last night. It's possible. Slim, yeah, but not impossible. At least enough for him to leave Wolfram and Hart. He was genuinely disgusted with the whole thing."

"Hello? Are we talking about the same guitar-playing evil nemesis? Not a chance." Cordelia disagreed. "Besides, it would only last as long as it was convenient to him for it to last. I wouldn't trust him to change in the least. Hell, if Lindsey really did quit Wolfram and Hart, and walked in through the front door saying he'd seen the light and needed our help to escape from L.A., I'd be the first in line to feed him back to the Senior Partners. Let him give _them_ indigestion!"

"Well," An all too familiar female voice said from the front doors. "I suppose it's a good thing that I'm not Lindsey, now, isn't it?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Angel the Series. All rights reserved to Joss, et al.

Thanks to Starway Man, my beta

Exit Strategy

By Alkeni

Chapter 2: Step 2 – Bribery

**Wolfram and Hart, Los Angeles**

**4:01 pm, April 27****th****, 2007**

Lindsey looked up from his computer, upon hearing the knock on the door of his brand-new corner office. It was a nervous, unsteady knock. Rolling his eyes, he told whoever it was to come in. As soon as he did so, Lindsey recognized the man – Walter Lendel, one of the people from the company's IT division.

"Uhm...I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but there appears to be a...well, that is to say...we're being hacked, sir." The man had a file folder in his hand, and held it out to Lindsey.

Lindsey gestured to the man to come closer. "Hacked? As in, right now?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you're telling me, why?" Lindsey could think of half a dozen people whose attention this should have been brought to, apart from himself.

"Because the program was authorized using Holland Manners' identification key." Walter said nervously. "It's a Special Projects issue."

_Ah. Well, that explains that. _But then Lindsey considered the almost-trembling computer geek more carefully. "Holland's dead. And yet, you kept his ID code on active status?"

"It was an executive order from the CEO, sir, since Mr. Manners' perpetuity clause has him attached to the Los Angeles office. But the man's soul is on active service outside of this dimension. Has been, since his death. And while the connection is outside access...it's definitely from this dimension."

_Well, duh. Not like there's a lot of extra-dimensional demons who would hack into our computer server. Then again...okay, that's something to raise at the next departmental meeting, since if I could think of it; no doubt eventually someone else will, too. _Lindsey took the file from the man and opened it. "Start from the top."

"At 3:27 pm, an outside terminal – we're still trying to find out where – entered Mr. Manners' key-code and activated a hidden subroutine in the archiving system. Hundreds of files are being copied and sent to a remote outside terminal. We're trying, but we can't stop it!"

"What kind of files?"

"Safe-houses, shell corporations, account numbers, case files, client information - basically, the works." Walter shifted around, palms sweaty. He knew that as one of the branch's division heads, a lot of the mud from this cluster-fuckwould stick to him. "If this information got out...the firm could lose billions, and..." He paused a moment, biting his lip. "It could give every federal law enforcement agency in the country enough ammunition to come down on Wolfram & Hart like a ton of bricks. Not to mention a lot of state and local ones..."

"Even the IRS?" Lindsey raised an eyebrow, as he flipped over one of the pages in the folder.

"_Especially_ the IRS, sir."

"I suppose you've already tried to lock out the program?"

"Yes sir. No luck. It resists every tactic we've tried, like whoever designed the damned thing _knew_ that we would try that sort of counter-measure. And it's been in the system for over a year, so a system reset isn't going to get rid of it either. Ah...I suspect I know why it's resisting our efforts so well, and why we never noticed it before." Walter rubbed his hands on his blue button-up shirt as he spoke.

"And why would that be?" Lindsey played with his pen, as he looked over at the IT man curiously.

"Because the person who designed it...I'm pretty sure it was David Cowan. I worked with him long enough to recognize his electronic fingerprints. He was one of our cybersecurity people, until about a year ago."

Lindsey leaned forward. "And where is Mr. Cowan now?"

"It's hard to say. His employment with this branch of the firm was terminated. During his last performance evaluation, he was deemed untrustworthy and unreliable, and subsequently fired. No...no, I'm sorry, I misremembered - actually, he was _set on_ fire. But if you look at the final evaluation...Lilah Morgan oversaw the whole process." Walter gestured to the folder. Lindsey turned to another page and saw Lilah's telltale signature at the bottom of a termination approval sheet. Involuntarily, he whistled.

"I have to give her credit. A good plan."

"You've been ordered to find Lilah and eliminate the threat she poses with this information." Walter said, as if waiting to be attacked. "You...you'll see the signed order on the next page..."

"Try not to live down to my every expectation, will you? If Lilah dies, all this goes public in a heartbeat! She'll have made sure of that much...no. It's not that simple. She's been working on her exit strategy for years probably, just in case. And I've got to hand it to her, this has style. We can't do anything to her yet. At least not directly."

_Think. Think. You know Lilah as well as she knows you. What would she do? Where would she go? _Lindsey put the folder down, honestly stumped. "I have to admit, I have no clue where she's hiding out, since her apartment hasn't been visited since she left the building, and none of her known personal safe-houses have been touched. I don't suppose _**you**_ happen to know where she is right now?"

"Uh, no sir." Walter said nervously.

_Typical. _Lindsey purposefully forced himself to stop thinking like a lawyer, and more like a cop. Or even a private detective. _All right. What would Angel do in this situation? I mean, he's infiltrated the firm before, without setting off every alarm in the building. And how did he do that? Using the firm's human element. Using an insider, like he did with __**me**__ way back when. So what's Lilah's human element? Her Achilles heel? Oh, __**yes**_, _of course..._

Lindsey smirked, staring at Lendel. "Did you know how the Soviet spy network managed to keep up with the Western agencies for all those decades, despite being completely outclassed in terms of technology? _People_, Walter. It all comes down to _who_ you know, not _what _you know. And fortunately, Lilah didn't hide everything perfectly..."

He entered some keys into his computer. "We can't get Lilah to turn herself in, and we can't kill her. She'll have prepared to unleash those files, before we could stop it by simply terminating her. But what we can do is play a trump card of our own..."

The formerly one handed lawyer picked up his office phone and dialed, one handed, then held the receiver up to his face. "Hauser? It's McDonald, Special Projects. Send a retrieval team to Covenant Providence Nursing Home, in San Fransisco. There's a certain invalid woman there, in Room 312. Transfer her to Fairfield Clinic's nursing home. Make sure she remains completely unharmed, and taken care of to the best of the clinic's ability. But maintain armed guards outside of the clinic and whatever room they put her in, until further notice." Lindsey started to hang up the phone, then he brought it back up. "And make damn sure, no bodies to be buried later during the retrieval op. Or else you're the one who'll be held responsible for the mess. I want this one done quick, clean and quiet." He dropped the phone back onto its cradle.

_Two can play at this game Lilah. And I can't __**wait **__to see the expression on your face, once you learn that I've gotten my hands on your mother..._

**Apartment Complex, East Los Angeles**

**4:09 pm, April 27****th****, 2001**

Pulling the last floppy disk from the computer, Lilah pulled the plug on the machine. Now it was time to cover her tracks, completely. There was still a chance they could trace the program – though not actually shutting it down should leave them chasing their tails, at least for a few more hours. With nowhere to receive the files, they'd bounce and end up all over the Wolfram and Hart mainframe.

But precautions always needed extra layers, and Lilah had those in spades. An axe made short work of the computer – modem, wires, hard drive, hardware, casing, everything. The IT geeks would have no idea when she'd stopped receiving the files, assuming Cowan had done his job right.

_I've banked a lot on that part of the plan. Sure, they'll have found out what's going on by now. But everything is too buried. They won't find Cowan's fingerprints or mine, until it's too late._

Ever since she'd started work at Wolfram and Hart – well, the _real_ Wolfram and Hart, rather than the one all the new initiates had to start in, which was the facade for public show – Lilah had been planning her exit strategy. Digging up dirt on the higher-ups had been an ongoing process, but that wasn't a major problem or obstacle. The real trick had been getting out of Los Angeles alive, and making it to safety. Every strategy she'd come up with had relied on unsure things, only possibilities, not certainties.

Lilah Morgan didn't do uncertainties. The arrival of Angel Investigations on the scene gave her exactly what she needed. If there was anyone who could get her out of the city under the firm's nose, it was happy-joy-joy crew on the other-side. All good guys and puppies.

_And now, I have something they want._

**Angel Investigations, Los Angeles**

**5:39 pm, April 27****th****, 2001**

Lilah looked at the four do-gooders, setting her bag and her briefcase down. "What? No hello? No 'get outs'? Not even a token death threat, for old time's sake?"

Wesley was the first to react to her appearance. In one fluid motion his to-go carton was on the desk, and a pistol was out from under it, leveled at Lilah. With his free hand, the former Watcher gestured for Gunn and Cordelia to get out of the way, and they did so, a clear angle of fire forming.

Lilah rolled her eyes and put her hands in the air, at the level of her head. "And to think," she quipped. "Six hours ago, _I_ was the one on the other end of the gun."

Wesley ignored her. "Angel, check her for weapons." The vampire approached her. "Arms outstretched to the side, Lilah."

The female lawyer complied, looking at Angel with a smirk. "I bet you've just been _waiting_ for a chance to do this, right tiger?"

Ignoring the innuendo, Angel checked her, moving efficiently down from her arms to her waist to her legs, taking a gun out of her pantsuit jacket. With ease, Angel pulled the clip and tossed both parts of the gun onto the floor. "She's clean."

"Ah, really? To think, you didn't even check my crotch to see if I've gotten anything hidden under there. Some Champion _**you**_are. " Lilah smirked, turning her attention to the boss of the outfit. "Still, satisfied? Really, Wesley, if I wanted you and everyone else here dead, I'd be a little bit more sophisticated than walking in with a gun. Give me some credit."

"You work for Evil Incorporated, Lawyer-bitch." Gunn retorted. "Don't think you qualify for gettin' _**any**_credit. What do you want?"

"Well, you heard what I said in response to Cordelia's comment. It's a good thing I'm not Lindsey. Oh, can I lower my hands now?" Wesley didn't lower his weapon, but nodded assent, and Lilah dropped her arms. "Good. That was starting to get uncomfortable. And I need to get my comforts where I can, before finally ditching this damned city."

"What? You seriously expect us to believe that you've seen the light, and you want our help to escape L.A?" Cordelia scoffed. "Do we _**look**_ like we ate our stupid flakes this morning?"

"Oh, please, Little Miss I-Got-Cursed-With-Killer-Headache-Visions. Do you _**really**_ want me to answer that question?" Lilah laughed at the infuriated look on Cordelia's face. "Anyway, seen the light? No. Need your help to escape Los Angeles? Yes."

"If you haven't decided to leave Wolfram and Hart-" Wesley started to say.

"Oh, please, I've left Wolfram and Hart." Lilah interrupted. "The firm decided they no longer needed my services, as of roughly eleven o'clock this morning. We've since parted ways."

"People don't just leave Wolfram and Hart after they've been fired, Lilah. What's your angle?" Wes asked curiously.

"My angle is that I want to stay alive, Wyndam-Pryce. Lindsey was the one who got the promotion to Vice President of Special Projects, and I was slated to be sacked. Literally."

"And how did you wriggle out of that?" Angel demanded.

"Easy, you undead moron! I had enough dirt on everyone else in that room for them to let me out walk out of the building alive and unharmed, _**after **_my contract with the Senior Partners was terminated and set on fire. By now, they'll have formally ordered Lindsey to track me down and kill me as his first big assignment in the new job. I'd like to be out of Lose Angeles, by the time he decides he has no choice but to get moving on that."

"I vote we sending him a fancy greeting card and tell him she's here." Cordelia supplied after a moment, raising her hand. "Who's with me?"

"This isn't a democracy, Cordelia." Wesley replied. "Besides, we can hardly hand Lilah over to be murdered in cold blood, regardless of how much we don't like her. But I don't see why we have to help her, either." Wes paused, looking at the brunette attorney carefully. "Still, you'd know that, so you'd have come here with something to trade for our help." He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Better if I show you." She picked up the briefcase and fiddled with the dials on the lock, opening it after a moment's work. The four members of Angel Investigations caught a glimpse of stacks of hundred-dollar bills, crisp, fresh and carefully ordered. Cordelia's vision went a little green for just a moment. _Shopping spree!_ went through her head, an involuntary reflex. Well, she had been the richest girl in Sunnydale once upon a time, so that was hardly surprising.

But the money wasn't the only thing in there. There was also a pile of floppy disks. Lilah took one out and closed the briefcase. "Files from the local branch of Wolfram and Hart. Safe-houses, account numbers, case files, client information – the workups on each and every one of you, and even your blonde Slayer's gang up in Sunnydale. Well, half of all that information, anyway. All of the files are incomplete, just in case. Once I'm out of Los Angeles, the other half of the files are yours."

"And what are you planning to do with all that money?" Cordelia asked, raising her eyebrow. "Use it to fund your new life?"

"Girl's got to have something to survive on, when they're on the run from a pan-dimensional law firm with a global reach."

"The offer is tempting, Lilah." Wesley started to say. "But-"

"We don't trust you." Angel finished, interrupting Wesley. He simply couldn't help it. "Who knows what's really on those files? That information could be completely useless, or even worse, some sort of entrapment."

"Useless? Entrapment? Oh, puh-lease. That information in the right hands would see over half of Wolfram and Hart's staff in prison for a list of crimes bigger than your _**ego**_, Angel! Bigger than your brood, even."

Cordelia laughed at that, she simply couldn't help it. Lilah may have been an evil bitch, but at least the female attorney didn't flinch at calling them like she saw them. "Nothing's bigger than his brood, Lilah. He's been working on it for a century." She ignored Angel's indignant 'Hey!'

"We're talking information on the pies that Wolfram and Hart has had its fingers in, all over the country. Think about what you could do with that kind of information." Ms. Morgan looked at each of them in turn. "All right, fine. I knew you'd want proof, so here's a freebie...a down-payment, if you like." She tossed the floppy disk disk in her hand to Angel, who deftly caught it. "This disk has all the information you'll need to bring down the LA branch's infant smuggling operation in this city."

"Infant smuggling?" Gunn frowned. "You mean-"

"In some dimensions, human babies are considered a delicacy." Wesley confirmed.

"Oh, please, it's not just that!" Lilah said, looking briefly disgusted before he face became an expressionless mask. "Surely you don't think that's _**all**_ they use the damn brats for, do you?"

"What are you talking about?" Angel demanded.

"And to think, I thought you actually had a brain." Lilah sneered. "Hello, Los Angeles? Home of a thousand and one drug deals? You honestly thought Wolfram & Hart wouldn't see a way to enter into that sort of market?"

Cordelia suddenly had a horrified look on her face. "Are you telling me...?"

"They're called _soul drops_." Lilah said in distaste, as everyone stared at her in disbelief. "Made from the essence of the newborn, or in some cases, even using _unborn_ human children. Human souls, harvested into the most powerful and addictive drug imaginable. And not that I'm dumb enough to try them myself, but I've heard that the high you get from just one of the damned things...well, it has to be _seen_ to be believed. That's why they've been earning the firm a fortune from the rich and famous, over the last two financial quarters!"

Wes shook his head, staring at each of his colleagues. "I **told** you we hadn't begun to plumb the depths of Wolfram and Hart's depravities."

"Not even close." Lilah agreed. "So. Do we have a deal? You get me out of the city safely, and the rest of the files are yours."

"And where are the rest of those files?" Cordelia asked.

"Somewhere safe. Somewhere neither you people, nor Wolfram and Hart, will ever find them. So, are you going to help me, or am I going to have to give all this _interesting_ information to someone else?"

Wesley scowled, but both he – and everyone else - already knew what the decision would have to be.


End file.
